


The Secret Diary of A. Ranger, Aged 20¾

by twitchbell



Category: Lord of the Rings - Tolkien
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-05
Updated: 2010-04-05
Packaged: 2017-10-08 17:41:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/77941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twitchbell/pseuds/twitchbell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fragments from a recently discovered manuscript.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Secret Diary of A. Ranger, Aged 20¾

**Author's Note:**

> Written with apologies to Sue Townsend, the author of 'The Secret Diary of Adrian Mole, Aged 13¾'

Orgilion

These are my New Year's resolutions.

1.  I will not frequent the Prancing Pony as regularly as other years.

2.  I will devote more time to killing Orcs, wargs etc.

3.  I will be kind to my mother.

4.  I will try and find a good smithy and get my sword fixed.

5.  I will help the poor and ignorant.

6.  I will have a good wash at least once a week, whether I need it or not.

There was quite a good party on at Rivendell tonight.  Elrohir (or Elladan) got my mother drunk on miruvor.  I was very shocked and disgusted by her behaviour.  Now that she's getting on, it's time she started acting with the dignity befitting her years.  She should take a lesson from me – I drank only moderately and still had a good time.

Oranor

I felt rotten today.  I was sick three times before breakfast and then got ticked off by Elrond.  He said I'd spent last night singing scurrilous songs about sex-starved Elf maidens, but I don't remember any of it.  I told him it was Elladan (or Elrohir) but he pooh-poohed that suggestion and sent me away with a flea in my ear.  He thinks his sons are perfect, which just proves he's not as wise as some people make out.

I visited my mother.  She looked disgustingly fit and healthy.  There is no justice in Middle-earth.

Orithil

It's very difficult being a 20¾ year old intellectual genius who also happens to be a King without a throne.  People do not seem to take my problems seriously.  When I mention them to my mother, she merely mutters some cryptic linnod to the effect that I'm lucky.  Lucky!  What's lucky about having to roam about in the wilderness and slaughter Orcs for a living?  If my mother tried months of sleeping under bushes and cleaning her teeth in stagnant puddles, she'd soon change her mind.  Elrond is no help either.  He seems to think that since he told me who I really was and presented me with a completely useless broken sword, his role in my life is over.  So no one cares about me.  Just my luck.

I think I might fall in love.  After all, I'm 20¾ so it's time I did.

Orgaladhad

Today Elrond said it was time I stopped whinging and thought about someone else for a change.  By this, he meant I should go out into the community and help poor, deprived people and stuff like that.  I have to visit an old wizard called Radagast.  I hope he's not as bad-tempered as Gandalf.

I met a maiden today in the woods.  It was dead embarrassing because I was singing one of the songs Elladan (or Elrohir) taught me (I don't know what it means, but the last time I sang it, my mother smacked me round the ear) so I had to change it double quick into one of those boring songs about Beren that Gandalf made me learn. 

The maiden is called Arwen and she is dead pretty with long black hair and eyes the colour of washing-up water.  She smiled at me.  I think she likes me.

Ormenel

Arwen is Elrond's daughter!!!!! All the years I've lived here and he's never even mentioned her!  Elladan and Elrohir never let on about her either.  I shall never understand the workings of the Elven mind.

Of course, Arwen is quite a bit older than me.  Over two and a half thousand years older, to be exact, but I think I'm mature enough to cope with this age difference.  I have always been attracted to older woman, anyway.  I think this is because I am very well developed for my age.

Glorfindel gave me a lift on Asfaloth to Radagast's house.  It was all overgrown and looked more like a home for delinquent Mewlips than a suitable residence for a wizard.  When I knocked on the door, something started growling and barking and hurling itself at the wood.  I thought it best to go and as I ran off, I heard someone swearing.  I hope Glorfindel got the wrong house.

Orbelain

Today was the worst day of my life.

It wasn't the wrong house, it was the right house and Radagast is not a kindly old wizard like I was hoping – he's even worse than Gandalf.  He smokes and drinks and swears, and keeps a pet warg called Fido.  Fido growled all the time I was there.  He looked very hungry.  There was a funny smell in the house, too (which is even more squalid than its exterior led me to suspect) – I'm not sure if the smell came from Fido or Radagast.

Elrond was in a flaming temper when I got back to Rivendell because someone had sabotaged all the chairs at one of his Councils.  They looked quite normal, but collapsed when anyone sat on them.  No one knows who was responsible.  (Luckily, I had a good alibi – I get blamed for everything)  But I think I can guess.  I saw Elrohir (or Elladan) creeping around with a big axe just the other day, but if anyone told Elrond, he wouldn't believe it anyway.

When I finally got home, my mother was asleep on the kitchen floor.  An empty bottle of miruvor in the sink told me why.  I do wish she's take up some feminine hobby, like knitting.

But worst of all, Arwen is going out with Glorfindel!!!  I don't think I shall ever get over the shock.

Orgilion

I am ill with worry, but no one has noticed.

Oh Arwen, my lost love!  I hope Glorfindel gets grabbed by the trolls.  I shall never speak to my so-called 'best friend' again'.

_Sadly, this intriguing manuscript ends here. _


End file.
